


A Good Viewpoint

by fuzipenguin



Series: Trending on the Edge [22]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dom/sub, Established Relationship, M/M, Multi, Open Relationships, Oral Sex, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23560003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Jazz likes to partake... but he also likes to watch.
Relationships: Bluestreak/Jazz, Bluestreak/Jazz/Ratchet (Transformers)
Series: Trending on the Edge [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/391156
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	A Good Viewpoint

**Author's Note:**

> Chigrima: jazz/bluestreak/ratchet. Unexpected but not unwelcome. A patron prompt!

Jazz lazily made his way up to consciousness, in absolutely no rush as he savored his current state of being. Processor blessedly blank, his entire frame throbbed in a way which said he had recently had several amazing overloads. He wished he could always feel this relaxed and content, but it never persisted for as long as he’d like.

Fortunately, Bluestreak was quite adept at slipping Jazz into this particular headspace when the opportunity presented itself, namely when they both had downtime and Jazz wasn’t being called upon for any of his officer duties. In Jazz’s opinion, that wasn’t near often enough.

Nevertheless, the two of them always made the most of their sessions and tonight had been no exception.

Jazz began the arduous task of rolling over and snuggling into Bluestreak’s side, but a low moan made him freeze before he had done more than twitch. That had seemed like Bluestreak, but why was he making the sounds he did when Jazz sucked him off?

Opening his optic shutters slightly, he turned his head so he could observe his lover.

… oh. Apparently Bluestreak made that same sound regardless of who was sucking him off. In this case, Ratchet.

“When’d you get here?” Jazz slurred, his glossa and voice box still not 100% up and running yet. Ratchet slanted his gaze over to Jazz, giving him a wink, but otherwise not removing his mouth from Bluestreak’s spike.

Which… fair enough. Bluestreak’s noises were downright addicting, especially when he was out of scene.

“… is the session over, sir?” Jazz asked, craning his head farther so he could look up into Bluestreak’s face. He honestly couldn’t remember the answer to the question. He knew Bluestreak had been talking to him after that last explosive overload, but all his wits had scattered by that point.

Bluestreak reached over and slid an arm around Jazz’s shoulders. He tugged and Jazz slid across the silky sheets, bumping into Bluestreak’s side with a muted clang. Bluestreak was hot to the touch, his vents pouring out heat. Jazz cuddled close, enjoying the warmth.

And the better view.

“Yes, although I’m not surprised you don’t… oh, yes, Ratchet, right there… you don’t remember,” Bluestreak said with a sensual roll of his hips when Ratchet did something apparently especially exciting to the spike in his mouth. “Ratchet stopped by about… mmm … a few minutes ago?”

Ratchet hummed in affirmation and Bluestreak gasped, his fingers tightening on Jazz’s shoulder. He bit his lower lip and Jazz stared at him, entranced. Primus, he was so hot.

Jazz instinctively thrust against Bluestreak’s hip, his pressurizing spike leaving a trail of transfluid as the tip slid across gray plating. Then he outright moaned as a hand wrapped around his spike and lightly squeezed. He reluctantly tore his gaze away from Bluestreak’s face to see Ratchet’s red fingers stroke to the base of Jazz’s spike and back up again.

One mischievously gleaming blue optic winked at Jazz, Ratchet’s mouth never faltering as it continued to bob on Bluestreak’s spike.

“You’re evil,” Jazz whimpered in accusation. Evil… and amazingly coordinated.

Bluestreak reached down and nudged Ratchet’s hand. The fingers left Jazz’s spike with a flirty flick and delved back between Bluestreak’s thighs.

“Focus,” Bluestreak commanded, spreading his legs wider.

Jazz gasped in mock outrage and pressed his spike more firmly against Bluestreak’s upper thigh. “I changed my mind… _you’re_ evil.”

And hot. Hot, hot, hot. Jazz loved watching Bluestreak give Ratchet orders, although it was always more playful than not. While Jazz and Bluestreak both enjoyed Ratchet’s occasional presence in their play, scene or not, Ratchet was only comfortable truly submitting to Bluestreak in private.

Jazz hadn’t minded in the slightest. When he was alone, he liked to imagine the things the two of them got up to… and his imagination was nothing to scoff at.

“You love it…” Bluestreak said in a low moan. His head arched back as he closed his optics, frame warming up another degree as Ratchet worked him closer to overload.

Yeah, he did. Even if Bluestreak was showing no inclination to share right now.

So be it. Jazz wasn’t above rubbing himself off against his lover’s silky smooth frame as he watched the show from just a few feet away. And while Bluestreak was far closer to climax than Jazz, there was a very good likelihood that once Bluestreak had finished, Ratchet would pounce on Jazz, just as warm and worked up as he was sure to be. 

Oh, however would Jazz manage?

~ End


End file.
